Two weeks ago, Fr. David talked about how we should come to God in prayer. The first thing is thankfulness: we should be grateful for all we have, happy we have a relationship with God, and full of praise for all the wonderful things we have in our lives. Friends, family, sunsets, harvests -- there's a lot for all of us to be thankful for. God doesn't want us to always come to Him complaining and asking for things. While that's certainly part of a healthy relationship with God, our primary attitude should be one of grateful praise.
The second way we should come to God is with humbleness, humility. Instead of thinking you're great and spending all your time thanking God for the (doubtless many) ways you're awesome, you should stand in His presence in all your smallness by acknowledging His greatness. Come to God with the understanding that your strengths are because God is strong.
The third way we need to come to God is in and with brokenness. We have to acknowledge that we need God because we aren't whole. When we feel shattered and lost and ashamed, we need to come to God instead of hiding because we don't feel good enough. It's God that makes us good enough, never ourselves.
Thankfulness, humility and brokenness. That's how we come to God in prayer.
This week, Jeff talked about how to pray once we've come before God. The main thing is to be persistent, like that widow who annoyed a judge into giving her justice. "Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!" Whatever, you do, don't give up: God wants to know that you know what you're asking Him is important. Not that you're trying to wear God down until he finally gives in because He's just a big meanie who doesn't want to help you, but because He wants you to understand that asking is important, as is faith that He's listening.
Jeff showed us how the Lord's Prayer teaches us to ask God for things. First, you acknowledge His greatness and praise Him, ask Him to do His will. Then you ask for things you need, and for forgiveness. You ask for the strength to forgive others (God wants things from you, too), ask Him to keep you safe, and say you know everything belongs to Him.
In other words, you pray with thankfulness, humility and brokenness, and ask God to help you live life in this fallen world.
Prayer, and prayerfulness, is the key to relationship with God, is key to having what you most need, is the key to life.
Friday, October 22, 2010
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Seasons of Change
As Fr. David said in his homily on Sunday, Summer is over: it's not that season anymore, when the living is easy. Now that Fall is coming, with its cool air and colored leaves, Winter and hardship won't be far behind, and we need to prepare. The point is, he said, that we're deluding ourselves if we think our lives will be one endless summertime; things change, and we have to be ready for them. If we aren't, we'll be like the foolish man who built his house on sand and expected it to last through the storm.
The Church has historically been the guardian and keeper of our seasons: festivals and holy days mark every change. Thanksgiving in Fall, Christmas in Winter, Easter somewhere around Spring. The liturgical seasons of the year don't always follow the path of the sun, but no one can deny that the Church has a very clear sense of the movement of time.
Right now, we're in the season after Pentecost, also called "Ordinary Time." The liturgical traditions of the West all have one thing in common: the colour they're using right now is green.
Green is meant to remind us of life, of growth and growing things, but it also reminds us that nothing special is happening at the moment. We take green for granted. There's no Easter or Christmas or Pentecost. Time just rolls by like a gently-sloping meadow, so easily that you don't really notice it. Whatever you call it, Ordinary Time is a lot like summer because it's easy, fading into the background and making you feel like you have all the time in the world. A sense of timelessness starts to pervade our worship. And sometimes we start to forget that it won't always be like this.
Will we be ready, when Advent comes around, to say: "bring on the purple"?
The Church has historically been the guardian and keeper of our seasons: festivals and holy days mark every change. Thanksgiving in Fall, Christmas in Winter, Easter somewhere around Spring. The liturgical seasons of the year don't always follow the path of the sun, but no one can deny that the Church has a very clear sense of the movement of time.
Right now, we're in the season after Pentecost, also called "Ordinary Time." The liturgical traditions of the West all have one thing in common: the colour they're using right now is green.
Green is meant to remind us of life, of growth and growing things, but it also reminds us that nothing special is happening at the moment. We take green for granted. There's no Easter or Christmas or Pentecost. Time just rolls by like a gently-sloping meadow, so easily that you don't really notice it. Whatever you call it, Ordinary Time is a lot like summer because it's easy, fading into the background and making you feel like you have all the time in the world. A sense of timelessness starts to pervade our worship. And sometimes we start to forget that it won't always be like this.
Will we be ready, when Advent comes around, to say: "bring on the purple"?
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Spaceship Heaven Touches Down
"The kingdom of God has come upon you" (Mt 12:28). This is one of the messages Fr. David touched on several weeks ago. It's important to remember that heaven isn't some city far away in the cosmos that we will someday reach. Christianity isn't about the idea that the good believer will die and his soul will escape into the sky to go live with God. It's about the truth that Jesus promises to come back and bring his heavenly city with him. It's about the belief that, one day, the Heavenly Jerusalem will be here among us.
While it's true that this time hasn't come yet, and can never fully come until the end of days, Jesus also tells us that his kingdom is already here. "[The kingdom of heaven] is like a mustard seed, which is the smallest seed you plant in the ground. Yet when planted, it grows and becomes the largest of all garden plants" (Mk 4:31-32); "The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field" (Mt 13:44).
Jesus' obscure sayings about the kingdom of heaven all point to the same idea: that God's kingdom is already within this world, and that it will grow and reveal itself ever more clearly until the final coming of the Lord, when its glory will burst forth in its full blinding magnificence. We see glimpses of that light in Jesus' Transfiguration. The glory of heaven is both here and not-yet-here. The kingdom of God is both obvious and out of our grasp.
In the Our Father, we pray that God's kingdom will come and His will be done on earth as it is in heaven. While we are praying for God to do His final work of establishing His throne on earth, we are also called to nourish the kingdom here and now so it can flourish and thrive to its full earthly potential. While only God can complete the work, we are certainly called to help it along.
"The kingdom of heaven is near" (Mt 3:2). How can we, as a community, recognize the signs of God's kingdom and work in its favor?
While it's true that this time hasn't come yet, and can never fully come until the end of days, Jesus also tells us that his kingdom is already here. "[The kingdom of heaven] is like a mustard seed, which is the smallest seed you plant in the ground. Yet when planted, it grows and becomes the largest of all garden plants" (Mk 4:31-32); "The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field" (Mt 13:44).
Jesus' obscure sayings about the kingdom of heaven all point to the same idea: that God's kingdom is already within this world, and that it will grow and reveal itself ever more clearly until the final coming of the Lord, when its glory will burst forth in its full blinding magnificence. We see glimpses of that light in Jesus' Transfiguration. The glory of heaven is both here and not-yet-here. The kingdom of God is both obvious and out of our grasp.
In the Our Father, we pray that God's kingdom will come and His will be done on earth as it is in heaven. While we are praying for God to do His final work of establishing His throne on earth, we are also called to nourish the kingdom here and now so it can flourish and thrive to its full earthly potential. While only God can complete the work, we are certainly called to help it along.
"The kingdom of heaven is near" (Mt 3:2). How can we, as a community, recognize the signs of God's kingdom and work in its favor?
Saturday, July 31, 2010
I Fall On My Knees
Last Sunday, Fr. David spoke about how God desires for us to pray and to ask Him for things. "Ask, and it will be given you;" "Call to me and I will answer you, and will tell you great and hidden things which you have not known" (Jer 33:3). God has told us how to speak to Him and promises to give good gifts to those who ask them of Him.
In his sermon, Fr. David focused on how the most profound encounters with God occur in the midst of difficulty. It can't be found in the world, in material things, or in triumphs, but in the places God longs to search us out -- broken and on our knees. "The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; A broken and a contrite heart, O God, Thou wilt not despise" (Ps 51:17).
We all know the story of the footprints in the sand: a man is looking back at his life as two sets of footprints. One belongs to himself, and the other to God. Most of the time, the record in the sand shows that the man and God walked side by side. But the man notices that during the most difficult periods of his life, there is only one set of footprints. The man is angry and demands to know why God abandoned him during the times he needed Him the most. God replies: "No, my son, it was then, during those times, that I carried you."
Although this story may be a bit of a cliche by now, it does capture the truth that God is profoundly with us in our suffering. The constant companionship of the LORD's path next to ours reminds us that God wants us to ask things of Him, that He's never too far away to hear us.
However, I'm not sure that God wants us to always be down on our knees, fearful, grovelling, or desperate. I think sometimes God wants us on our feet, praising Him: "Hallowed be Thy Name!" Maybe that's the time it's most important to pray, the time when we feel fortunate. We can ask for what's truly important most easily when all our other needs have been satisfied -- that Christ may find a dwelling place of faith in our hearts.
In his sermon, Fr. David focused on how the most profound encounters with God occur in the midst of difficulty. It can't be found in the world, in material things, or in triumphs, but in the places God longs to search us out -- broken and on our knees. "The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; A broken and a contrite heart, O God, Thou wilt not despise" (Ps 51:17).
We all know the story of the footprints in the sand: a man is looking back at his life as two sets of footprints. One belongs to himself, and the other to God. Most of the time, the record in the sand shows that the man and God walked side by side. But the man notices that during the most difficult periods of his life, there is only one set of footprints. The man is angry and demands to know why God abandoned him during the times he needed Him the most. God replies: "No, my son, it was then, during those times, that I carried you."
Although this story may be a bit of a cliche by now, it does capture the truth that God is profoundly with us in our suffering. The constant companionship of the LORD's path next to ours reminds us that God wants us to ask things of Him, that He's never too far away to hear us.
However, I'm not sure that God wants us to always be down on our knees, fearful, grovelling, or desperate. I think sometimes God wants us on our feet, praising Him: "Hallowed be Thy Name!" Maybe that's the time it's most important to pray, the time when we feel fortunate. We can ask for what's truly important most easily when all our other needs have been satisfied -- that Christ may find a dwelling place of faith in our hearts.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
God vs. God
written by Jeff Alexander
The lectionary is a funny thing. It’s usually pretty straightforward on holy days and other specific celebrations, but the routine-Sunday combinations of Old Testament – Psalm – Epistle – Gospel often keep a poor preacher on his/her toes. This Sunday, in the midst of a celebration of baptism, was no exception. Not only were we treated to Paul’s enumeration of the sins of the flesh – and no reading is a crowd-grabber without “licentiousness” in it! – but the Gospel focused on some of Jesus’ harshest words.
As recounted by Luke (9:57-62), various anonymous speakers express their desire to follow Jesus, but only after completing routine and (on the surface) understandable tasks. “I just have to bury my father,” says one; “I’m coming after I say goodbye to my family,” states another. Would we deny these acts to anyone before they were to jump into a life-changing and life-consuming responsibility? I sure wouldn’t.
And yet, as Katherine Speeckaert pointed out in her reflection, Jesus bluntly responded that both had to choose, then and there, between these actions and devoting their lives to His service. Period. No do-overs, time-outs or polling the audience. This would have been especially troublesome for the mourning man, as Jewish law – God’s law – was very strict on the requirement for burial of a dead body.
What, I wonder, are the first-time attenders among the baptism family thinking? “Woah, this isn’t what I came for. I just wanted to be here for my [family member/friend/co-worker], snap a few cute pictures and fill myself with finger sandwiches and ultra-frosted cake.” Or are they even listening? Are we even listening to Jesus’ words?
There’s the point on which Kat zeroed in. Jesus didn’t hesitate to be controversial or to jar His listeners, even to the point of seemingly contradicting the Father’s will. How can we reconcile when Jesus’ commands fly in the face of the Law?
Step 1 is seeing, through Jesus’ eyes, how God’s commandments and laws had become a way for the religious elite to stay eliter than the rest of the citizenry. “Hypocrites! Well did Isaiah prophesy about you, saying: ‘These people draw near to Me with their mouth, and honor Me with their lips, but their heart is far from Me. And in vain they worship Me, teaching as doctrines the commandments of men.’ ” (Matthew 15:7-9). Jesus, like God, is all about the heart, not the action; the relationship, not the procedure. The ultimate worth of the Law, and its rituals, was to draw all Jews to the Father. Even love for the family and the ritual of burial are consumed by the call of Christ to be His disciple.
As Kat underlined, the Christian life is not one of ease. There is no room for the half-hearted when Jesus is the desire. Remember, the context for this reading was in the midst of Jesus heading relentlessly towards the cross. How can we not give our all in the face of His suffering, humiliation and excruciating death on the cross? We are baptized into a faith that demands our total obedience and willingness to sacrifice for the One who sacrificed His earthly life for our eternal salvation. This is reflected in the very sober promises of the sacrament of baptism, and ring true through the lives of all believers.
Maybe the lectionary wasn’t so strange after all.
The lectionary is a funny thing. It’s usually pretty straightforward on holy days and other specific celebrations, but the routine-Sunday combinations of Old Testament – Psalm – Epistle – Gospel often keep a poor preacher on his/her toes. This Sunday, in the midst of a celebration of baptism, was no exception. Not only were we treated to Paul’s enumeration of the sins of the flesh – and no reading is a crowd-grabber without “licentiousness” in it! – but the Gospel focused on some of Jesus’ harshest words.
As recounted by Luke (9:57-62), various anonymous speakers express their desire to follow Jesus, but only after completing routine and (on the surface) understandable tasks. “I just have to bury my father,” says one; “I’m coming after I say goodbye to my family,” states another. Would we deny these acts to anyone before they were to jump into a life-changing and life-consuming responsibility? I sure wouldn’t.
And yet, as Katherine Speeckaert pointed out in her reflection, Jesus bluntly responded that both had to choose, then and there, between these actions and devoting their lives to His service. Period. No do-overs, time-outs or polling the audience. This would have been especially troublesome for the mourning man, as Jewish law – God’s law – was very strict on the requirement for burial of a dead body.
What, I wonder, are the first-time attenders among the baptism family thinking? “Woah, this isn’t what I came for. I just wanted to be here for my [family member/friend/co-worker], snap a few cute pictures and fill myself with finger sandwiches and ultra-frosted cake.” Or are they even listening? Are we even listening to Jesus’ words?
There’s the point on which Kat zeroed in. Jesus didn’t hesitate to be controversial or to jar His listeners, even to the point of seemingly contradicting the Father’s will. How can we reconcile when Jesus’ commands fly in the face of the Law?
Step 1 is seeing, through Jesus’ eyes, how God’s commandments and laws had become a way for the religious elite to stay eliter than the rest of the citizenry. “Hypocrites! Well did Isaiah prophesy about you, saying: ‘These people draw near to Me with their mouth, and honor Me with their lips, but their heart is far from Me. And in vain they worship Me, teaching as doctrines the commandments of men.’ ” (Matthew 15:7-9). Jesus, like God, is all about the heart, not the action; the relationship, not the procedure. The ultimate worth of the Law, and its rituals, was to draw all Jews to the Father. Even love for the family and the ritual of burial are consumed by the call of Christ to be His disciple.
As Kat underlined, the Christian life is not one of ease. There is no room for the half-hearted when Jesus is the desire. Remember, the context for this reading was in the midst of Jesus heading relentlessly towards the cross. How can we not give our all in the face of His suffering, humiliation and excruciating death on the cross? We are baptized into a faith that demands our total obedience and willingness to sacrifice for the One who sacrificed His earthly life for our eternal salvation. This is reflected in the very sober promises of the sacrament of baptism, and ring true through the lives of all believers.
Maybe the lectionary wasn’t so strange after all.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
The Unnecessary Savior
On Sunday, Fr. David spoke about how the ‘world’ seems to have decided it doesn’t need God anymore. It goes about its business -- Grand Prix, the World Cup, etc. -- thinking that God isn’t a part of it at all. Life is fine just the way it is: a solitary individual or group or team going about their business for their own benefit, and nothing more.
It’s when you’re really down, when you really hit rock-bottom, that you know God is with you. Fr. David reminded us of the story of Joseph, who was sold into slavery by his own brothers and ended up in prison after being accused of a crime he didn’t commit. All that time, God was with him, and God had a plan. Joseph wasn’t in it alone.
How many times in our own lives have we felt God’s presence beneath layers of setback and hardship? Feeling like we have nowhere else to turn really does awaken a knowledge of God’s presence in a person’s heart. We come to know, in our difficulties, that God has a plan for us in our lives and will not abandon us to ourselves. For some reason, God is always easiest to see against starkness and barrenness. From within comfort and extravagance, He often can seem absent.
It’s important to remember that God is with us in our successes as well as our failures. God’s plan for Joseph wasn’t only that he would suffer but that he would rise to greatness, and someday use that power for the good of others -- even those who had brought harm to him in the first place.
God raises us up, and we always need him. The ‘world’ is wrong to think that God is dead or unnecessary, because the whole world, in all its aspects, is held within God’s eternal plan. It is important that we, as Christians, do not forget our dependence on God, or we may become caught up in a world bent on living without Him. Our God is with us both in sickness and in health, in abundance and drought.
In what ways do we, as a community and as people, acknowledge our dependence on God’s saving help?
It’s when you’re really down, when you really hit rock-bottom, that you know God is with you. Fr. David reminded us of the story of Joseph, who was sold into slavery by his own brothers and ended up in prison after being accused of a crime he didn’t commit. All that time, God was with him, and God had a plan. Joseph wasn’t in it alone.
How many times in our own lives have we felt God’s presence beneath layers of setback and hardship? Feeling like we have nowhere else to turn really does awaken a knowledge of God’s presence in a person’s heart. We come to know, in our difficulties, that God has a plan for us in our lives and will not abandon us to ourselves. For some reason, God is always easiest to see against starkness and barrenness. From within comfort and extravagance, He often can seem absent.
It’s important to remember that God is with us in our successes as well as our failures. God’s plan for Joseph wasn’t only that he would suffer but that he would rise to greatness, and someday use that power for the good of others -- even those who had brought harm to him in the first place.
God raises us up, and we always need him. The ‘world’ is wrong to think that God is dead or unnecessary, because the whole world, in all its aspects, is held within God’s eternal plan. It is important that we, as Christians, do not forget our dependence on God, or we may become caught up in a world bent on living without Him. Our God is with us both in sickness and in health, in abundance and drought.
In what ways do we, as a community and as people, acknowledge our dependence on God’s saving help?
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
A Still, Small Voice
This Sunday we heard testimony from Missy about how God is at work in her life. She spoke about feeling lost in the hectic rhythm of day-to-day life, about feeling spiritually lost, and about feeling as if she were in a void sometimes. I’m sure everyone has felt that way at least once in their lives. In the midst of our busy days, how do we find our way back onto the path? How do we find time to get un-lost when all our responsibilities are pressing down upon us?
Missy testified powerfully about the effect taking five minutes out for God can have on our day and on our lives. By spending a few moments in quiet meditation at the beginning of the day, she found a space to be alone with God, and the effect of having that space for relationship spread through the rest of her life.
She also spoke about the signs in her life that led her to slow down and take time for God, time to find her way back onto the path again. For her, these signs were physical illnesses. The idea that God wants us to take a break at times is a really important lesson that we as a society often forget. When people run into adversity in their lives, the often-heard message is one that urges us to keep going, work harder and –whatever we do – not to give up. But maybe that isn’t always what we need to do, maybe we shouldn’t always be forging blindly onward. Instead we may need, as Missy did, to take time out and discern what God wants for us in our lives. It might be that we need to move sideways to get onto the path, and that charging straight ahead is exactly what we shouldn’t do.
One could say that Sunday’s service was exactly the opposite of the still space where Missy found God: full of music and words and reflection and speech. One could say that, but it would be wrong. We are called to seek God in all things and in all the manifold ways we seek God, we find that stillness. That still, small voice within the chaos; that still, small voice that leads us home.
Missy testified powerfully about the effect taking five minutes out for God can have on our day and on our lives. By spending a few moments in quiet meditation at the beginning of the day, she found a space to be alone with God, and the effect of having that space for relationship spread through the rest of her life.
She also spoke about the signs in her life that led her to slow down and take time for God, time to find her way back onto the path again. For her, these signs were physical illnesses. The idea that God wants us to take a break at times is a really important lesson that we as a society often forget. When people run into adversity in their lives, the often-heard message is one that urges us to keep going, work harder and –whatever we do – not to give up. But maybe that isn’t always what we need to do, maybe we shouldn’t always be forging blindly onward. Instead we may need, as Missy did, to take time out and discern what God wants for us in our lives. It might be that we need to move sideways to get onto the path, and that charging straight ahead is exactly what we shouldn’t do.
One could say that Sunday’s service was exactly the opposite of the still space where Missy found God: full of music and words and reflection and speech. One could say that, but it would be wrong. We are called to seek God in all things and in all the manifold ways we seek God, we find that stillness. That still, small voice within the chaos; that still, small voice that leads us home.
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